Better yet, let’s have my late grandmother be the judge. (Trust me, there was nothing she couldn’t judge.) Grandma Trudy enjoyed giving gifts – truly, she did. She chose my and my siblings’ birthday, holiday, graduation gifts with care. But the part she loved? I mean, lived for? That would be the actual giving of gifts, because immediately following the giving came the reciting of disclaimers.

If you don’t like it, it can go back. I like it. Don’t like the color? Gray is nice. I can get it in blue. Really, gray’s fine. If sweaters make you itch, it goes back. Sweaters are fine. So you know! Receipt is in the box.

I’m certain that if grandma were alive and food blogging, it would go something like this:

So, Cherry Tomato & Maytag Blue Beignets. What? Sounds fancy. Sounds like a lot of fat. If you don’t want fat, don’t eat it.

Tomatoes, I like tomatoes. Not too many tomatoes – heartburn. You don’t have heartburn? Good for you! Eat the tomatoes.


Who frys in summer? My doctor says no frying. And if you don’t like cooking don’t cook! Just order in. Wait – I’ve got menus in the drawer.


So, they’re pretty. But they remind me of – what are those things, in the bread, with the lettuce and funny sauce, on Dempster Street, in the round bread? I don’t know. They remind me of those.

I have to say, these were not bad, not bad, might even be okay – but vey schmeer, the work. Who needs work in the kitchen? Your grandpa, he makes French toast in the kitchen. He’s crazy. If you don’t like work, this recipe can go back.

——————

Makes 35-50, depending on tomato size. Serve warm or at room temperature as an appetizer, on a brunch buffet, or as a very fancy sports snack.

CHERRY TOMATO & MAYTAG BLUE BEIGNETS

2 1/4 teaspoons yeast
1/4 cup warm water

2 tablespoons vegetable shortening
1/3 cup water

4 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
1/8 teaspoon white pepper, ground
1/2 cup buttermilk
1 egg, lightly beaten

small wedge Maytag Blue Cheese, about 5 oz. (Stilton would also work well)
35-50 cherry tomatoes, small size, in season (I used locally-grown Sun Golds)

vegetable oil, for frying
sea salt, white pepper and cayenne pepper, for rolling
chives or other herbs for garnish, chopped fine
————–
Make beignet dough: Place yeast in large bowl (if using stand mixer, bottom of mixer bowl) and pour 1/4 cup warm water over yeast to dissolve. Set aside until yeast is bubbling and activated. Place 1/3 cup water and vegetable shortening in small microwave-safe bowl. Microwave on high for 20-25 seconds, until shortening begins to melt. Remove and stir until shortening is completely melted.

Sift flour with sugar, sea salt and white pepper. Add melted shortening, buttermilk, and beaten egg to activated yeast. Whisk (or use paddle attachment, on mixer) together to combine. Add 2 cups of the flour mixture (by hand with a wooden spoon, by mixer with paddle on low) until a wet, sticky mass forms. Gradually add remaining 2 cups of flour to form a shaggy but fully combined dough. NOTE: Humidity makes a difference. If dough looks wet and sticky, add more flour. If dough begins to look dry and resists mixing, stop adding flour.

Roll and form beignets: Turn dough out onto lightly floured surface. Turn over once or twice to smooth – but don’t knead it. Roll dough into a large rectangle, 1/8 – 1/4″ thick. Using pastry or pizza wheel, mark 1 1/2″ x 1 1/2″ squares. Place one cherry tomato and a generous dab of blue cheese in center of each square. Pinch up corners of each square to meet, pressing edges together to seal, then roll beignet between palms to create a seamless ball. Place on a foil or parchment-lined sheet pan, and continue rolling filled beignets until done. NOTE: beignets may be formed up to one day in advance. Cover loosely with foil and store in refrigerator until ready to fry.

Frying beignets: Line a sheet pan or large plate with paper towels. Sprinkle the paper towels with an even, fine layer of sea salt, then large dashes of cayenne and white pepper, to taste.

In large pot or deep fryer, heat vegetable oil (at least a few inches) to approximately 360°. I recommend using a fry/candy thermometer to monitor oil temperature – too low and beignets will be heavy and greasy; too high and you’ll get dark outsides, raw insides. When oil is hot (test a small piece of dough – if it puffs to the top, it’s ready) drop the beignets into the pot one by one, working in small batches.  Beignets should puff and brown quickly, about 1-2 minutes. If beignets do not rise and puff, slightly raise heat. If beignets burn too fast, slightly lower heat.

When beignets are evenly gold-brown, remove from oil and drain on “seasoned” paper towel-lined pan. When you have several warm beignets on pan, pick up edges of paper towels, allowing beignets to roll and coat with seasoning. Continue frying batches of beignets until done, rolling each batch in seasoning (add more salt/cayenne/white pepper if necessary).

Serving: serve warm or at room temperature, up to four hours after frying. May garnish with chopped chives or other herbs, as desired.

————–
Summer Fest is an annual online celebration of good food and great ideas, featuring food and garden bloggers from around the globe. Every week we highlight a different seasonal ingredient – corn, stone fruit, tomatoes – and our guest bloggers share great recipes, stories and tips. You can participate by visiting these terrific blogs and leaving links or comments – and if you’re feeling particularly inspired, you can contribute a post of your own. Drop by A Way to Garden for details on how join the party.

THIS WEEK’S LINKS: TOMATOES

Gluten-Free Girl and the Chef: Heirloom Tomato Tart with Parmesan Crust

Nicole at Pinch My Salt: What to do with slow-roasted tomatoes

Alison at Food2: Heirloom tomatoes

The FN Dish: Tyler’s Ultimate Tomato Salads

Margaret at A Way to Garden: More than one way to ripen a tomato

Gilded Fork: Celebrating summer lusciousness with a tomato dossier and recipes

Diane and Todd at White on Rice Couple: Sun-dried tomatoes (actually made in the sun!)

Paige at The Sister Project: 3 substantial, healthy, vegetarian tomatoey main dishes

Liz at the Cooking Channel: Easy Tomato Tart

Kelly at Just a Taste: Tomato Jam

Alexis at Food Network UK: The seven deadly tomato sins

Michelle at Healthy Eats: Top 10 Things to Do With Tomatoes

Alana at Eating From the Ground Up: Roasted Green Salsa (green zebras and tomatillos), and how late August makes her hurt for New Mexico

Caron at San Diego Foodstuff: Chunky Garden Gazpacho with Flowered Corn Tortillas and Melissa Clark’s Tomato Tarte Tatin

Judy at Over a Tuscan Stove: Tomatoes, the Italian Way

Caroline at the Wright Recipes: Savory Tomato Crumble

Tigress in a Pickle: Over 50 ways to preserve tomatoes in jars

Cate at Sweetnicks: Loaded Bowl of Deliciousness

“I don’t know,” he said, and I gaped at him. “It just seems pointless.” Ah. There we are, that’s why, the point. My husband the attorney, the arrow thinker, does not like needless complication. He cannot grasp a situation that doesn’t have a point. I too like hitting the right note, but that’s not always been the case. There was a time, pre-culinary school-discipline-makeover, when I complicated all sorts of things. I frequently made simple things much harder than they had to be, things like:

That Medieval Times birthday cake: I’d already built battlements from a two-ton carrot cake. Did it really need that working gingerbread drawbridge and chocolate moat?

That six-tier wedding cake for the rabbit lovers: I agreed to carve bride and groom rabbits – they asked for black rabbits, a specific breed – out of Sculpey. Did she need that tiny strand of pearls, did he really need a rabbit tux? With a hole for his tail?

That banana tart for the Cuban-themed restaurant audition: did it really need rum, caramel, coconut, lime, white chocolate and a little umbrella? Perhaps I should have dressed it in a little marzipan t-shirt stamped “TROPICS?”

The overdoing went on a long time, until chef training beat it out of me. By necessity, I learned to create lovely things with speed and efficiency, things that didn’t stray. Lesson learned: if you don’t have two extra hours, don’t make a chocolate moat.

By now I should know, should know better. An unadorned tomato is best, but even in August I wanted to crank up the oven and bake – with tomatoes. The fact that it’s time for quick, cold and easy would, apparently, keep me from mixing bread dough, spreading filling, rolling and chopping and waiting for dough to rise. Twice.

Summer’s almost over, so a little side trip, one foot in the garden and one eye toward woolly fall, is no waste of time. Not the most efficient recipe, but so strong was the savory bread in my mind, a sort of deep dish-flavored sticky bun, that I bucked the heat to make it anyway and hope you will, too. It’s needlessly complicated, too true, but when you serve this edible centerpiece to oohs and ahhs, when they are reeling in tomato-steam and pulling apart crusty rolls, you might think: not complicated. Simply good, and worth it.

Summer Fest bounded through the season with a fabulous group of bloggers. What’s everyone cooked up for the finale?

♥ Margaret Roach at A Way to Garden has troubled tomatoes, but is still Making Quick Tomato Sauce, Ever so Slowly

♥ Matt Armendariz at MattBites features not one, not two, but an incredible Tomatoes Ten Ways, including Roasted Tomato Bloody Mary and cold Heirloom & Fennel Soup.

♥ Jaden Hair at Steamy Kitchen stacks a beautiful Caprese Salad with Basil Vinaigrette.

♥ Diane & Todd at White on Rice Couple are showing off gorgeous Tomato Jam Recipes and tales of Kiddie Tomato Thieves

♥ Shauna & Daniel Ahern at Gluten-Free Girl making I-want-it-right-now Smoked Tomato Salsa

♥ Paige Smith Orloff at The Sister Project is dishing up “the Greatest” – Curried Carrot & Tomato Soup.

And also you! Summer Fest is a great way to explore new voices, get new ideas and contribute your own. Hopscotch around the blogs, find what you like and please leave something to share, like recipes, links or tips. Do you grow great tomatoes, have the perfect summer recipe? Introduce yourself, and comment away.  Readers have exchanged so many delicious ideas – so swing by the blogs, and enjoy the best of summer.

UPSIDE-DOWN TOMATO BASIL BREAD

serves 12-16

Dough

2 1/2 teaspoons (or 1 package) active dry yeast
1 cup plus 3 tablespoons warm water
4 tablespoons plus 1 teaspoon olive oil
3 3/4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1/2 cup shredded Parmesan cheese
2 teaspoons sea salt
1 teaspoon coarsely ground black pepper (or three-pepper mix)

cornmeal, for sprinkling

Filling

4 – 5 tablespoons fresh basil, finely chopped (basil from store produce pkg, about 1 oz)
1 cup shredded Parmesan cheese
1/4 cup olive oil
1 teaspoon sea salt
1 teaspoon coarsely ground black pepper (or three-pepper mix)
fresh-ground red pepper flakes, to your more hot/less hot taste -or- 1/2 teaspoon hot red pepper flakes

Tomato Topping

3 large or 4 small-medium tomatoes

optional for sprinkling: 1/4 teaspoon each: sea salt, sugar, red pepper flakes

Make Bread Dough:

Using mixer: Stir the yeast into warm water in mixer bowl; let stand about 10 minutes, until yeast looks bubbled and creamy. Fit mixer with dough hook. Stir in olive oil first, combining with yeast, then mix in flour, Parmesan cheese, sea salt, ground black pepper and hot pepper flakes. Start mixing on low and increase to medium speed, kneading about 5 minutes, until dough is combined, soft and elastic.

If dough looks too dry: add water while mixer kneads, few drops at a time, until dough just combines. If dough looks too wet: add tiny dashes of flour while mixer kneads, sparingly, until sides of bowl look clean and dough combines.

Place dough in lightly oiled bowl; cover loosely with plastic wrap, then dish towel. Set aside and let rise until doubled, about 2 hours. Dough should feel very smooth, moist and soft.

While dough rises, make filling & tomato topping.

Make Filling:

In small bowl, place chopped fresh basil, Parmesan cheese, olive oil, sea salt, ground pepper and red pepper flakes. Stir to combine well, and set aside.

Tomato Topping:

Remove cores and chop tomatoes to small, rough pieces. Place in bowl (without accumulated liquid) and set aside.

Assemble Tomato Basil Bread

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F

Lightly oil (with olive oil) bottom and sides of 10″ round cake or springform pan (can also use 9 x 13 metal pan, Pyrex dish, or similar). Drain any excess juices from chopped tomatoes, then spread evenly over bottom of pan. Set aside.

Turn risen bread dough out on lightly floured surface. Gently pull and stretch dough to a rough rectangle, approximately 11″ x 24″. Using spatula, gently spread Filling evenly across dough to cover, reaching edges. Starting at long edge, roll dough up jelly roll style, as for cinnamon rolls. Try to roll evenly and without air gaps. With seam side facing down, make sure filled roll is solid and combined by patting sides and edges.

Using a thin, sharp knife (serrated is best) cut 1″ slices from dough roll. Arrange slices, spiral side down, on top of chopped tomatoes in prepared pan. In a 10″ round pan, you will have little to no room between slices (if using a larger pan, arrange slices barely touching, with small amounts of space between them.) Cover lightly with plastic wrap and allow to rise slightly, about 20 minutes.

Place filled pan on wider sheet pan or foil (important – to catch drips!) Bake on lower rack 40 – 45 minutes, until top rolls are medium brown, feel hollow when tapped, and tomato juices have bubbled and thickened. Remove from oven and cool on rack for 5 minutes.

To unmold & serve: Have a platter or cake stand ready that is wider than the bread pan. Cover browned top of rolls with platter or stand (pan will still be warm, use oven mitt.) Holding platter to pan together, turn over in one motion until pan is upside down. Use a knife to carefully lift pan from bread, releasing steam slowly. After releasing initial steam, lift pan off completely, revealing tomato-topped bread. Serve immediately.

If you’d like darker edges and more caramelization - it’s beautiful and delicious that way – preheat the broiler. When hot, mix together optional sea salt, sugar and red pepper flakes. Slide whole bread onto a sheet pan, then sprinkle salt mixture over tomato topping. Place under broiler for 1 – 2 minutes, watching carefully, until tomatoes sizzle and edges blacken. Remove and serve.

bread dough inspired by Carol Field, The Italian Baker

What’s Summer Fest? The wonderful Margaret Roach, she of A Way to Garden and The Sister Project, invited me to participate in Summer Fest 2009, a regular cross-blogging party: every week a new food-from-the-garden theme meets several well-known bloggers, including Margaret, Matt Armendariz, Jaden Hair, and White on Rice Couple’s Todd and Diane. Also popping up: Shauna and Daniel Ahern from Gluten-Free Girl, Paige Smith Orloff of The Sister Project, and, for the love of pie crust, me.

Summer Fest 2009 Schedule

Tuesday, July 28: HERBS

Tuesday, August 4: FRUITS from TREES

Tuesday, August 11: BEANS-AND-GREENS WEEK

Tuesday, August 18: TOMATO WEEK

It’s Tomato Week! Drop by the blogs to share your own links, recipes, and ideas.

Oh, that Donald. In our house he’s come to symbolize little tortures – ultimately the spoon will bring comfort, but first the miserable gauze, and pain, and that fixed orange smile! My oral surgery wish for you: may all your teeth show themselves, and remain useful, and may you enjoy soft Banana French Toast without ever, ever having to sit in that chair.

from January 6, 2009 (original post here)

Here’s the thing: I don’t love Jell-O, and most of America does. I’d bet that even foodie elite, people who’d never be caught with a two-tone wiggler, dig strawberry banana when no one’s looking – I believe it. There are a few distinct groups of Jell-O lovers – 50′s kids who grew up with it, like my parents; crafty cooks who make projects of rainbow parfaits; and the rest, like my daughter, who just plain like its slippery cool. And in there, there we have it. The only time I like Jell-O is when I’m sick – when I’m good and sick and low, those unnatural tones look like comfort, and taste easy. A delightful slide down, and too smooth to refuse.

Josie had some oral surgery done last weekend, the poor thing. Whenever she’s legitimately sick or injured – antibiotics or 100 degrees, whichever comes first – she will get tucked into our bed with quilts, movies, and the dog, and luxuriate in being The Poor Thing. A diminished state will also make her The Nice Thing – a fever or post-anesthetic haze will do that to a kid, I guess. She lays positively docile, sipping Gatorade and following orders, her parents stroking hair or bringing treats. What – a – trouper.

Can we get you something, something soft? Jell-O? Okay. The lime kind, and Donald? Sure. You just wait right there.

That’s right. When in need of true comfort, dental or otherwise, we call on The Donald. Promise not to tell her friends; she’d kill me. With the spoon.

Anyway, as soon as you could say Tylenol 3, the two full days of Jell-O, soup and yogurt made her bored with movies, sick of codeine, restless and newly charged as The Crabby, Hungry Thing. She was starving, she said, we were starving her. I believe that’s called taking care of you, I said. You wanted Jell-O. Well yeah, but now – now she was just mad to have missed the whole weekend, sure that she was wasting away, and maybe she would like a large steak. Or a dozen buffalo hot wings. And celery. The dog leaped off the bed, and the spell was broken. She was feeling better.

Not wishing to undo the surgeon’s work, I nixed the chewing, but offered real food. How about…French toast?

Eh.

I looked around the kitchen. A banana in the fruit bowl straightened, hopeful.

Okay. How about French toast…with caramelized bananas?

Ooh.

Aha! Soft for the mouth and sweet on the tongue. Now we were talking, and even better, healing. There’s still Jell-O in the fridge, and sore mouth or not, she’ll eat it. Me, I’ll wait for the fever.

Caramelized Banana French Toast

This method lets you use one pan for both the French toast and the bananas; just make sure it’s good and non-stick.

8 slices bread (I like to use stale baguette bread, cut on a thick angle)
4-5 eggs *
1/4 cup milk or cream
splash orange juice (optional)
dash of cinnamon
dash of nutmeg

1 tablespoon canola oil, or butter, for frying

1-2 bananas, in thick slices
1 tablespoon butter
1 1/2 tablespoon sugar
splash orange juice

In a large bowl, whisk the eggs, milk or cream, orange juice, cinnamon and nutmeg until smooth. Add bread slices to bowl, turning pieces to coat with egg mixture. Leave slices in the egg mixture 5-15 minutes (thick, dry bread can take longer) or until bread is soaked through, but not falling apart.

Using a large, non-stick frying pan, melt oil or butter over medium-high heat. Add soaked bread slices and cook 1-2 minutes per side, turning, until evenly browned. Remove French toast from pan and set on a paper-towel lined plate.

Leaving heat at medium-high, immediately add sliced bananas and tablespoon of butter to the same non-stick pan, shaking pan as you add to keep bananas moving. Sprinkle sugar over bananas, then the splash of orange juice. Keep the pan moving as they cook, using a heatproof spatula to help turn bananas fast. Both sides of bananas should brown quickly, melting the sugar and juice together, about one minute total cooking time.

Set French toast on plates, spoon warm bananas over the top, and serve.

* so, what’s with “4-5 eggs?” Well, eggs will vary in size, volume, and how long they’ve been in your fridge. Start by whisking up four – if there’s enough liquid to generously cover the bread, stop there, and if not, add another.

serves 3-4, depending on your own Hungry Things

Making Bierochs, by April Phillips

I’ve been eating bierochs since I was a little kid. They were part of our school lunch program. Bierochs are a German-Russian food brought over by the Mennonites. A large group of Mennonites settled the plains of Kansas and many of their foods have lingered and rooted into the culture of Kansas. When I made these in Missouri nobody knew what the heck they were. Now that we’re back in Kansas, I say I’m making bierochs, and people ask me if I eat them with mustard, or plain?

I don’t ever remember having a side dish with bierochs. It doesn’t matter, because the bierochs steal the show, but I’ll put a salad or soup with them to round out the meal. Eating a bieroch reminds me of my childhood – the harvest festival that my small town hosted on the brick-paved Maine Street (really is Maine, not Main) every fall would host various booths, and somebody was always selling homemade bierochs.  They were a trigger that harvest was done and fall had begun.

Now I have to make them every year. My husband and children start requesting them as soon as the colors on the trees start to change, and we reach into the back of the closet for our sweatshirts. Summer is still in full swing, but I’m starting to grow weary of the heat and the constant watering of the garden.  I’m ready for the crisp air of fall, and the smell of fresh bread and beef coming out of my kitchen.

I know you’re going to ask me for a recipe. But I don’t follow a recipe, I just make them – follow along, and you can make them too. Get a big bag or can of sauerkraut.  Rinse and drain, then set aside. Chop up a head of green cabbage…chop….chop….chop…

Combine the cabbage and sauerkraut in a large pot, add a bit of water, and put it on the stove to soften the cabbage.  See all the liquid in the cabbage afters it’s cooked down? We need to drain that off before we mix it with the beef.

You’ll need meat for bierochs – this year I used our pork sausage and some ground beef. I make a lot of bierochs, so I used about 2 lbs of beef and 2 lbs of pork sausage. Brown it, drain it, set aside.

Chop a large yellow onion, saute in oil until tender and starting to caramelize…I like to taste the sweetness of the onions. Mix the onions with the meat.

Combine the cabbage and beef in a large pot and start to season. You can do just about anything you please – I like to add ground mustard, salt, pepper, cumin and garlic powder. Season to your liking, is what I say. In years past, I’ve added a packet of soup mix. You can add cheese, too. Ooh, I love Swiss cheese in a bieroch. This year I left out the cheese, because I have more people in the house that don’t like cheese….but next year, I’m adding cheese.

You can stop here, like I did, and store the mixture in the fridge to work on the dough the next day….or you can start the dough right now. Find a simple wheat or white bread/roll recipe – this year I made whole wheat dough and white dough. If I don’t feel like making the dough, then I buy frozen Rhodes rolls and use them the same way. Here’s the wheat dough after it has risen and is ready to shape.

I quartered the dough, then shaped the sections into logs. Cut the logs into smaller, 1 1/2 inch sections. Then cut those in half. Now the dough is the size I need. I’m thinking that buying the darn Rhodes rolls would be so much easier. But then what would I blog about?

Flatten the dough pieces, then stretch the dough – it needs to be big enough for a big scoop of meat and cabbage, but don’t break it.  I use a large scoop, it’s probably 1/4 cup or maybe 2 tablespoon. Are you following me so far? This is how I cook people. It’s learn it, then do it. Put one scoop of cabbage/meat mixture onto the flattened dough.

Now draw up the edges.  Start pinching together the dough until the entire mixture is completely encased in dough. Put it on a greased baking sheet and proceed to make 4,598 more. Making bierochs is a commitment. You can’t walk away. You have to be there, scooping, pinching, patting, stretching, scooping, pinching, patting, stretching. ARE YOU CHEF ENOUGH FOR IT!

Bake those babies for 12-15 minutes in a 350 degree oven and watch your family love you, and then watch as they hate you because you are going to make them eat bierochs at every meal. For the next eight weeks.

Mmmmm. So good.

Today’s feature, in which one loaf of bread proves worthy to the crumbs, was a favorite of many readers. From November 2008, the original post can be found here.

—————-

This is the challah.

This is the soup
that soaked up the crusts
that were cut from the challah that we built.

This is French toast
that used up some slices
before crusts filled the soup
that came from the challah that we built.

This is the sandwich, all stacked up and new
that made a fine lunch
before the French toast
and the crusts in the soup
that came from the challah that we built.

This is the butter
on bread from the oven
that made a fine lunch
and lovely French toast
and crusts in the soup
that came from the challah that we built.

This is the dough
all egg-washed for shine
that went in the oven
got slathered with butter
and made a fine lunch
and lovely French toast
and crusts in the soup
and it all came from one challah

that we built.

* please note that the extra dough in the “egg wash shine” photo is a small roll that Josie braided, baked and consumed immediately, thus making it ineligible for the “all-from-one-challah” game. Just so you know.

Build your own challah and watch it disappear! With all the traditional challah recipes in the world, I hold this one – from King Arthur Flour – reliably above all others. Try the four-strand braiding technique or simply stick with the easy three-strand and break out the butter. When you’re down to the last crumbs, you’ll know it’s time to make more.

Can we get you something, something soft?  Jell-O? Okay. The lime kind, and Donald? Sure. You just wait right there.

That’s right.  When in need of true comfort, dental or otherwise, we call on The Donald.  Promise not to tell her friends; she’d kill me.  With the spoon.

Anyway, as soon as you could say Tylenol 3, the two full days of Jell-O, soup and yogurt made her bored with movies, sick of codeine, restless and newly charged as The Crabby, Hungry Thing.   She was starving, she said, we were starving her. I believe that’s called taking care of you, I said.  You wanted Jell-O.  Well yeah, but now – now she was just mad to have missed the whole weekend, sure that she was wasting away, and maybe she would like a large steak.  Or a dozen buffalo hot wings.  And celery.  The dog leaped off the bed, and the spell was broken.  She was feeling better.

Not wishing to undo the surgeon’s work, I nixed the chewing, but offered real food.  How about…French toast?

Eh.

I looked around the kitchen.  A banana in the fruit bowl straightened, hopeful.

Okay. How about French toast…with caramelized bananas?

Ooh.

Aha! Soft for the mouth and sweet on the tongue.  Now we were talking, and even better, healing.  There’s still Jell-O in the fridge, and sore mouth or not, she’ll eat it.  Me, I’ll wait for the fever.

Caramelized Banana French Toast

This method lets you use one pan for both the French toast and the bananas; just make sure it’s good and non-stick.

8 slices bread (I like to use stale baguette bread, cut on a thick angle)
4-5 eggs *
1/4 cup milk or cream
splash orange juice (optional)
dash of cinnamon
dash of nutmeg

1 tablespoon canola oil, or butter, for frying

1-2 bananas, in thick slices
1 tablespoon butter
1 1/2 tablespoon sugar
splash orange juice

In a large bowl, whisk the eggs, milk or cream, orange juice, cinnamon and nutmeg until smooth. Add bread slices to bowl, turning pieces to coat with egg mixture. Leave slices in the egg mixture 5-15 minutes (thick, dry bread can take longer) or until bread is soaked through, but not falling apart.

Using a large, non-stick frying pan, melt oil or butter over medium-high heat. Add soaked bread slices and cook 1-2 minutes per side, turning, until evenly browned. Remove French toast from pan and set on a paper-towel lined plate.

Leaving heat at medium-high, immediately add sliced bananas and tablespoon of butter to the same non-stick pan, shaking pan as you add to keep bananas moving. Sprinkle sugar over bananas, then the splash of orange juice.  Keep the pan moving as they cook, using a heatproof spatula to help turn bananas fast.  Both sides of bananas should brown quickly, melting the sugar and juice together, about one minute total cooking time.

Set French toast on plates, spoon warm bananas over the top, and serve.

* so, what’s with “4-5 eggs?” Well, eggs will vary in size, volume, and how long they’ve been in your fridge.  Start by whisking up four – if there’s enough liquid to generously cover the bread, stop there, and if not, add another.

serves 3-4, depending on your own Hungry Things

* please note that the extra dough in the “egg wash shine” photo is a small roll that Josie braided, baked and consumed immediately, thus making it ineligible for the “all-from-one-challah” game.  Just so you know.

Build your own challah and watch it disappear! With all the traditional challah recipes in the world, I hold this one – from King Arthur Flour – reliably above all others. Try the four-strand braiding technique or simply stick with the easy three-strand and break out the butter. When you’re down to the last crumbs, you’ll know it’s time to make more.

The package thing, however, works a lot better if you’re actually home.  Last week I was in Chicago visiting my parents – by myself – and on the phone from home, Greg mentioned that a box had arrived. For me.

Really?  A package, hmm, nothing I had ordered, a box out of the blue, a box with my name on it!  So sad – forty years old and I’m aflutter for mail.

“So where’s it from?” I was talking in my parents’ living room, my mother in a big stuffed chair, perusing the fourth Restoration Hardware that week.  Now her ears perked up.

“It’s from Teller’s,” he said.

“Tellers.” The restaurant?

I should say that Teller’s is two blocks from our house.  What were they sending me, my favorite antipasto, to go?  Greg went on.

“Should we open it?”

“Oh, well…okay…oh fine, open it…”

Grrr.  Is there anything worse than someone else opening a package intended for you?

Well, of course there is.  But it’s up there – like Santa came and you weren’t home.  Not that Santa visits our home, not unless he is hankering for latkes on Christmas Eve – but you know, if I did fry latkes for Santa and then someone else ate them, that too would be bad.  In the same way. Whatever.

Josie chimed in – I could hear her ripping tape.  “It’s a board!”

“A board.”

“Yeah!”  she got excited, “it’s a breadboard, you know the breadboard, and the card says from Mom and Dad.”

the original breadboard of my dreams, at Teller’s

The breadboard, I repeated.  Across the room my mom was laughing.  Oh, that breadboard!

After I’d blogged about my crush on a simple piece of wood, they found it – hello, she just called the restaurant – and had it sent to me, which is lovely, but…now I was standing there. In Chicago.  And my surprise package opened by not-me back in Lawrence.  What do mothers, airplanes, the web and the US mail have in common?  They all work in mysterious ways.

look…right in my kitchen!

In review, the board is great.  My mom apparently had a nice little chat with the manager and learned the boards are made from reclaimed walnut, made by a buddy of his, right here in Lawrence.  Could they get me one?  Well, they don’t normally sell them, but sure, no problem.

Sheesh.  Perhaps I should post my wish list on the blog more often?

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Dipping Oil from Baguette Heaven

1/2 cup olive oil
sea salt
fresh-ground black pepper
oregano and dried red pepper flakes, crushed together
grated parmesan or pecorino romano cheese

Whisk oil with salt and spices, seasoning to your taste. Top with a sprinkling of parmesan or romano, add sliced baguette or Italian bread, and dip away!

“Are you hungry?”

No. I am in bed.

“Should we go out to breakfast?”

Maybe. When I am out of the bed.

Cleo stared at me, her fixed brown-eye seal stare, feed me.

Know what I’ve learned from one kid, three dogs, restaurant kitchens and a work-at-home guy? There is no me in meal.

I didn’t feel like cooking, and didn’t want to wait in line at Milton’s. “I’ve already read the paper,” said Josie. “I don’t want to wait in line at Milton’s.”

Ha! Now, not even my thoughts are not my own. Spoiled I said, smoothing her ponytail, doesn’t want to waaait – but the echo gave me a private little smile that pulled me up and out to the day. It was sunny but not sweaty – a good omen – so we walked to a compromise two blocks down. If you get to WheatFields early enough, the line’s not too bad, the bread is to die for and the croissants shatter in a warm, buttery heap.

This week brought some lovely gifts.

A pick-me-up pillow arrived by mail from the wonderful, handyman-challenged Jean. Is there a better kind of pal than one who sends you something for no reason? What do you think, Moose Country meets The Who? Britannia meets Martha? Maybe Ralph Lauren invades Liverpool – whatever it is, it’s awesome.

Produce from my friend Pam at summer’s end. Cucumber salad, anyone?

In other news this week, I was lucky to receive a few too-kind awards: one from baker-to-be Susan at Slice of Sueshe, one from the endlessly creative Theresa of T Does Wool, and an E for Excellence from Beach House’s inimitable Modernemama. Thank you! You’re supposed to pass these things on – and as soon as I’m not paralyzed by indecision, I will.

The week saw a successful start to junior high – new haircut, new alarm clock, and a locker that finally opened. We also had cooler temperatures, Free State’s heirloom tomatoes, a good laugh at the unbelievably poor-taste and totally hysterical Tropic Thunder, kind words from friends near and far and tonight, barbecue at Arthur Bryant’s. Not too shabby. All that…

…and a sunny breakfast with the papers.

How was your weekend?

The wood is so tactile, so rustic and pretty that I’m quite sure it makes the bread taste better. Dip, salt, dip, pepper, dip, dip…hmm…can we get some more bread over here? It makes for chewy crust nirvana, and after looking everywhere for my own salt-and-pepper indented board, I’ve decided they probably have theirs made.

What…ask them? Please! Enough with that sensible talk. I just want them to keep bringing more, so I can turn that board over and over as if I’ve never seen the wonder that is bread and wood before. If you have seen one like it, know how to make it or where to get it, I’d be eternally grateful, and that usually involves cookies. Many thanks.